Now before I get to my story, I think you should head over to Twist of Noir and check out Hilary Davidson’s story. Very, very good.

You want a song too? Ok. Mmmm.

Now my story — please feel free to share your comments.

Karma Backlash

“I heard footsteps on the wet sidewalk and the sound of keys.”

I heard an engine; I heard my dog’s collar rattle as she trotted off; I heard the exhale of smoke.

It had to end like this. Always had to end like this.

Not to get philosophical or anything, but screw it. All I know is I had dreams. Most nights I’d wake up with a metallic taste in my mouth and sweat on my upper lip. Even a corner preacher who sported a thick beard and dark coveralls told me the end was near.

That night, after hearing his words, I knew it to be true. I lost my appetite. I even had to throw my damn Gyro away, but some stupid mutt was sniffing around the trash so I gave it to her instead. Stupid four-legged creature stayed by my side ever since.

I should amend that; she stayed by my side until the very moment that I found myself lying in the gutter’s embrace, my side aching, feeding the metal grate my hemoglobin and plasma.

She was a good dog. As good as I always imagined a dog to be. This is according to the fact I never actually “owned” one myself. What a piss poor thing to say anyway. “Owning”. As if we can ever “own” a living, breathing thing.

Like, let’s say there is a God or whatever. Does God own us? If so, are we getting trained? A big cosmic newspaper to our ass in the form of a hurricane flooding our community or a fire burning down some kid’s house? If we ain’t owned, and we can wander on down the road without ever looking back, which is fine by me, what the hell we need God for? To wear some collar that proclaims us his?

It’s strange what a man thinks when he’s about to be done with thinking forever.

I ain’t got no regrets. The life I had was fine by me. I had a good sense of intuition that saved my ass more than once. I had some girls. I finally got a dog to walk.

I knew this was coming so I settled into my routine, and gave structure to the skittish bitch. The boys knew right away I had had enough. I never had a routine, and then to have such a regimented clock, well, I think they were relieved. At the bar, I’m sure they said I was a real man. A stand up guy. Braver than most.

I heard the shoes scrape the pavement close to my head. I heard the hammer pull back. I heard a scream and a growl, or a growl and a scream, and an explosion of noise as the bullet pinged off the curb. I turned just in time to see Earl shoot my dog. The bullet entered the chest, but the blood and bone matter exited the back. My dog, she didn’t whine. She didn’t whimper. It took a few second for her to realize she was dead and to release Earl’s forearm from her mandibles.

It was just a mutt, not some fancy German Sheppard or Rottweiler or Pit Bull. It wasn’t supposed to come back. It wasn’t supposed to lay a rotten fang into human flesh, let alone the man sent to kill me.

The next shot entered below Earl’s chin, but the blood and bone matter escaped from the top of his head.

Hey David — thanks. I was up in mountains for some writing then travelling with family for a few weeks — of course after all that play time, work was overwhelming. But I’m back and looking forward to getting back into the fold. I see we have some new people — looking forward to seeing what people come up with.

“If we ain’t owned…what the hell we need God for?” Brilliant. The language rings true to me because this sounds like the people I grew up with, most of whom would have had no qualms about shooting someone for messing with their dog. Great tale all around. Welcome back!

@garden — thanks, and I know exactly what you mean by it —
@David been around and saw the two blokes — I smell podcast
@Cormac it’s great to be back — missed you people
@Mr I wondered if it I pulled away from the dead man’s ponderings in time, glad to hear I did
@Doc Thanks Doc — and I too knew some people who would say and do those things as well
@Flannery and @Randal — the mood was probably the hardest thing to capture for me but it just felt right
@CJT Yeppirs — I am looking forward to seeing you next week!

About Chad Rohrbacher

I am a co-editor at Shotgun Honey. I'm very honored to be a part of that esteemed crew.

My stories have been published in magazines like Crime Factory, Needle Magazine, Big Pulp, Beat to a Pulp, and others. You can see some below.

I've also contributed to anthologies such as CHIVALRY IS DEAD from May/December Publications, OFF THE RECORD from Guilty Conscience, HEROES & HERETICS from Pulp Empire, and LOST CHILDREN a charity anthology.